A Warrior's Knowledge

by Davis Ashura

  Her decision made, Mira gathered the papers together and dropped them off with the desk clerk of the City Watch Archives.

  She stepped outside into the bright sunshine of an early spring day. The weather was chill, and Mira gathered her coat close even as she checked her sword for clearance. After the attack on Bree, all the Shektan women had taken to walking armed through the streets of Ashoka.

  Mira took a short alley leading to Martyr Hall, intending to follow the large road to Jubilee Hills and the Shektan House Seat. Halfway through, a shadowed figure, one she didn’t notice until it was too late, detached itself from a wall and confronted her.

  Hal’El Wrestiva’s cold eyes froze her. “I’d like a word with you, Miss Terrell.”

  *****

  For Rector Bryce, one of the most maddening aspects of working at the warehouse had been his inability to determine ownership of the building he oversaw. House Wrestiva’s archives had proven useless in the matter. According to their records, the building was owned by a series of corporations and individuals tied together in an intentionally incomprehensible knot.

  Which had led Rector to the City Hall of Records. There, after some painstaking research, he had finally learned what he had been seeking. Titular ownership of the warehouse belonged to Quality Building Divisions and an unknown silent partner. From there, Rector had discovered a rental agreement between Quality Building Divisions and Ashokan Property Investments. This second company had then signed a management agreement with Stole Services, a third corporation. Three companies — one to manage, another to rent, and another as nominal owner of the warehouse.

  It was a complicated mess, and it certainly hadn’t been easy to disentangle it all. In fact, the diligence and effort required might have even taxed Jaresh’s abilities. Rector smiled at the thought. Who would have guessed he would have ever been impressed with the skills of a Sentya?

  Now, all that remained was discovering who owned the three corporations in question.

  Rector rubbed his forehead, dreading the work ahead of him. It had taken him a week of twelve hour days to get this far, and it would likely take just as long to discover the names of the companies’ owners. Rector rolled his shoulders, an unconscious gesture used on the eve of battle. Nothing to do but to get it done. He searched the records for titles of incorporation and was surprised by how quickly he found his answer.

  Hal’El Wrestiva. He was the majority partner in all three companies, and the only name to appear on all three companies manifest of owners. Rector had found the Sil Lor Kum, and he sat back in stunned disbelief.

  How could Hal’El Wrestiva be the SuDin of the Sil Lor Kum? The man was a legend. He had survived more Trials than any man since Hume. He was the warrior against whom Rector, and so many others, had measured themselves. He was a hero who nearly everyone admired, but according to the records here, he was also the vilest traitor imaginable. He was a member of the Sil Lor Kum, their leader, and the Withering Knife murderer. Ghrina, an abomination, Tainted, none of it came close to describing the depths of Hal’El’s evil.

  Rector pinched his brow and shut his eyes. His head hurt, but with a shuddering breath, he firmed his resolve. Hal’El Wrestiva had been a hero, but that was no longer the case. He had to pay his crimes. Mira could help. She could bring this information to Dar’El Shektan, who could then pass it on to the Chamber of Lords. Hal’El would be a feast for crows before tomorrow’s sunset.

  Rector exited the City Hall of Records. Mira should still be at the City Watch Archives. He could catch her there.

  *****

  A simple, brown package lay waiting on his desk when Dar’El returned from lunch. It wasn’t unusual for those who sought business with House Shektan to send him gifts or tokens of acknowledgment. More rarely, they were simply items he’d forgotten that he’d ordered from months earlier. So it was with an incurious state that Dar’El examined the package. He lifted it up and immediately noticed the heft. Whatever was inside was heavy, and from the shape and feel, it seemed to be a binder of some sort. Dar’El puzzled over the item. Why would anyone send him a stack of papers? He turned the package over, and when he came to the name of the sender, he brows rose in surprise.

  Ular Sathin.

  It shouldn’t have been possible. Ular had died two weeks ago, choosing suicide over honor. Ular Sathin, the Muran Master of the Society of Rajan and secretly, a MalDin of the Sil Lor Kum. Ular, the man Dar’El had loved as a friend.

  Dar’El’s grip on the package tightened. How could Ular have betrayed them as he had? How could he have lied so well and so easily to everyone in his life? Everyone who cared for him? Had Ular secretly laughed at all of them, mocking their trustfulness? All those duplicitous decades of deceit and treachery? Had there ever been anything genuine about the man? Or had every aspect of his life been a sham?

  Dar’El set aside the package and waited for his anger to pass. He turned to the wide window offering a view of Mount Bright and the blooming gardens. The day was sunny but suddenly felt cool, and he offered a brief prayer for Jaresh’s safety. It was likely futile, but he hoped someone was listening.

  With a sigh, he turned about. The anger and hurt were still there, and they always would be. Maybe with time, he would find a way to forgive his old friend, but that day wasn’t today.

  Dar’El ripped open the package. He’d been right. It was a binder full of paper. There was also a folded letter. It was from Ular.

  To those who follow,

  If you are reading this, then by now, you have learned the truth about who I am and what I’ve done. Please understand: it was not my intent to cause you any pain or grief. I never sought to harm you or anyone. I simply lived in accord with my wont. I am the scorpion in the fable. I chose who I became because it seemed to be the most true to my inmost self. Morality and evil have no place in the judgment of my actions. Neither then should friendship and love or good enter into the equation when elucidating my true nature.

  I am sure these words bring you no comfort or long-sought answers, and the purpose of this letter is not to provide such. My words are simply to allow you knowledge that I am gone now, off to that great refuge, Death, which for me, has always represented a safe harbor from this dismal world where wretched Fear held an icy guard upon all my Hopes and Dreams. It left me a coward, and a coward’s life I led.

  You may think I died a coward as well, but it is not the truth. Suicide was not the means to my end. Rather my final act was an act of desperation. I was driven to my death, and it was someone from the Hidden Hand who was the drover.

  I hope you learn who it was, and I hope you cause the Sil Lor Kum no end of grief. These documents should allow you fruitful pursuit of such an endeavor.

  Warmest Regards,

  Ular Sathin

  Dar’El re-read the letter again, but it offered no hidden meanings or further insights into who Ular Sathin had truly been. It seemed the man would forever remain an enigma. With a sad exhalation, Dar’El set the letter aside before turning to the packet.

  He opened the binder and smiled in triumph. Ular had given away the entirety of the Sil Lor Kum. The first page was titled Organization of the Sil Lor Kum. Dar’El’s smile fell away an instant later. The rest of the document appeared to be written in a cipher.

  He sighed. Where was Jaresh when he needed him?

  *****

  Rector did a double take when he passed by an alley near the City Watch Archives. Exiting the far end had been a man and a woman, and he could have sworn it had been Mira and Hal’El Wrestiva. But when he turned to look again, they were gone.

  Rector took a hesitant step into the alley, but the more he thought it through, the more certain he was that it had been Mira in the company of Hal’El Wrestiva. But why? What possible reason could she have to talk with that traitor? Surely she wasn’t in league with Hal’El. Rector had trouble believing something so outrageous. He wouldn’t believe it. There had to be another reason.

  And whatev
er it was, he meant to learn it.

  Rector raced to the opposite end of the alley. It opened onto Martyr Hall, and he searched up and down the street. Mira and Hal’El couldn’t have gone far, but for some reason, he couldn’t find any sign of them. The traffic was too thick.

  “Rector!” a voice cried out. “Over here!”

  He searched for whoever had called to him. It was Bree and Satha Shektan. They were mounted and bore down on him.

  Rector gave a dejected sigh. He’d done his best to avoid Dar’El and his immediate family. Ever since the situation with Rukh, the few times he’d interacted with them, Rector had always been on the receiving end of an angry harangue. He didn’t need another such confrontation. Rector had wronged Dar’El’s family — he knew it — but he’d had enough of their chastisement. Besides, on most days, he berated himself enough to satisfy anyone’s demands.

  He tried to mask his disappointment as they approached, but he was obviously unsuccessful based on Satha’s frown of annoyance. “I’m sorry our presence causes you so much distress,” she said.

  “Yes, try to contain your joy,” Bree said sarcastically. “Have you seen Mira?”

  “That’s who I was looking for just before you caught up with me,” Rector said. “I could have sworn I saw her a second ago walking with Hal’El Wrestiva.” Rector quickly explained what he had learned about Hal’El Wrestiva, and their countenances grew grim.

  “Hal’El Wrestiva?” Satha said, her eyes boring into his. “Are you sure?”

  Rector nodded.

  Satha sat back in her saddle. “What are the odds?” she murmured enigmatically.

  “Dar’El received a binder this afternoon,” Bree explained. “It supposedly contains information about the Sil Lor Kum, but all the papers are written in code. We were on our way to bring Mira back to the House Seat to work on deciphering the documents.”

  During all this, Rector had been thinking about what he’d seen with Mira and Hal’El. A sick feeling took hold in the pit of his stomach.

  “What is it?” Satha asked.

  “Just now, when I thought about what I saw, I realized Mira looked scared,” Rector answered.

  “You think she’s in trouble,” Bree said.

  “I saw her with Hal’El Wrestiva, the Withering Knife murderer. Of course she’s in trouble,” Rector snapped, the fear growing stronger. “Can either of you see them from up there?” he asked.

  The Shektan women searched up and down Martyr Hall, their frowns deepening.

  “She’s not here,” Bree announced.

  “We have to find her,” Rector said, feeling the press of time.

  “It goes without saying,” Satha replied coolly. “Do you have any idea which direction they were going?”

  Rector concentrated on what he had seen. “I think northwest.”

  “Toward Stone Cavern?” Bree asked in surprise. “Not toward Jubilee Hills. I would have thought he would have taken her to House Wrestiva’s Seat.”

  “I think Bree has the right of it,” Satha said. “We should — ”

  Rector was no longer listening. Something Bree had said sparked a memory. He chased after it, searching his mind for a barely remembered scrap of information. What was it … something about Stone — he had it. His shout of triumph silenced the Bree and Satha. “It’s Stone Cavern,” Rector said.

  “How do you know?” Satha asked.

  “After Jaresh cracked their cipher, I took another look at the ledgers. It turns out that about six months ago, Quality Building Divisions, the company owned by Hal’El and this partner, the Rahail woman, purchased a building in Stone Cavern.”

  “You know the address?”

  Rector told it to them. “I’ll go to the building in Stone Cavern,” he announced. “Can the two of you gather some warriors and meet me there?”

  “I should go with you,” Bree said. “If Mira isn’t there, I can act as a messenger and let the warriors know where else we think she might be.”

  Satha didn’t like Bree’s plan, but in the end, she relented. “Be careful,” she warned.

  Bree nodded. “I’ll stay out of the fight if it comes to it,” she said. “But at least I can protect myself this time.” She patted the sword at her hip.

  *****

  Hal’El could Blend. Mira had no idea how he had learned such a Talent, but it was true. He’d told her he could do so, but she hadn’t believed him until they had stepped out of the alley and onto the busyness of Martyr Hall. Despite the black blade so clearly pressed against her side — and from the cold evil emanating from it, this was most probably the legendary Withering Knife — no one had taken notice. Even when Mira had shouted for help, her pleas had been ignored. There had been a few Rahails and Murans who had glanced their way in suspicion — likely sensing the illegal Blend, which was forbidden within Ashoka — but for some reason, none of them had raised an alarm, either.

  How could this be happening? She’d been so close to finishing off the Sil Lor Kum. Mira had discovered the truth about Varesea Apter. She had been about to tell Dar’El Shektan, and afterward, it would have been easy to tear down the Sil Lor Kum and kill all those degenerate bastards.

  Now Hal’El Wrestiva, the Withering Knife murderer, was leading her up the stairs of an empty building in Stone Cavern. Mira’s heart thudded with fear, but she couldn’t think how to save herself. When she tried reaching for her sword, Hal’El had slapped aside her hand, nearly breaking her fingers in the process. His contempt for her skill was evident in how he didn’t bother disarming her afterward. However, the rest of the journey, he had maintained in a bruising grasp on her arm the entire time. Now, Hal’El dragged her to the top of the stairs where a single, closed door stood.

  Mira swallowed heavily. “What do you intend to do with me?” she asked. She’d asked a variation of the same question many times during the long walk here, but on every occasion, she’d had been met with silence. This time was no different.

  Hal’El continued to grip Mira’s arm tightly while he unlocked the door and swung it open. The room inside was large but sparsely furnished: a table, several chairs, a couch, and a bed.

  “Dar’El sent a sheep to hunt a wolf. His foolishness will cost you your life,” Hal’El growled before shoving her unceremoniously inside.

  Mira stumbled, almost falling, before she regained her balance.

  “Who’s this?” a voice asked.

  Mira gasped.

  On the far side of the room, Varesea Apter lounged upon a bed, wearing nothing more than a breezy chemise.

  She and Hal’El were lovers?

  The door slammed shut.

  *****

  Rector crept up the stairs with Bree skulking close on his heels. They’d rushed to the building in Stone Cavern as swiftly as they could manage. Thankfully, Bree’s mount had been able to force an opening through the throngs of traffic on Martyr Hall, and Rector had followed right on the horse’s hooves. Otherwise, the trip here might have taken twice as long.

  When they’d arrived, the building had been darkened. There had been no lights in any of the windows to indicate anyone’s presence. The place had appeared empty and abandoned, completely unremarkable except for one oddity. In one corner of the building, on the top floor, the windows had been covered over with plywood, but nowhere else.

  In addition, as Rector and Bree had approached the building from the alley in back, he’d noticed what appeared to be a new, wooden fence and gate stretching across the rear yard. From somewhere near it, an unseen woman’s tremulous voice had risen in panic before being swiftly muffled.

  Rector had conducted Jivatma, and the world had grown brighter, sounds sharper, and vision swifter.

  The murmured whisper of the building’s gate opening caught his attention. Then came a double image: the gate was closed but there was another image superimposed upon it, one of the same gate swinging shut.

  Someone was Blended.

  He’d passed on the information to Bree, wh
o had nodded, and they had carefully pressed their way through the gate, expecting trouble.

  Nothing.

  Rector had signaled for Bree to wait outside, but she had shaken her head in negation. He’d tried to press the matter, but she had continued to refuse. Rector had known he couldn’t stop and argue the matter. Mira was inside, and she needed help.

  With a suppressed growl, he had pressed on, Bree following close behind.

  Now, they climbed the final flight of stairs.

  “Where do you think — ” Bree began.

  Rector shushed her to silence.

  They approached a single door at the stop of the stairs. Light leaked from beneath it and murmured voices could be heard from the other side of it as well. Then came an angry shout followed by Mira’s cry of pain and a loud crashing.

  Rector reared back and with all his Jivatma enhanced strength, he kicked the door open, ripping it off its hinges.

  *****

  For Mira, on a day full of shocks, this one might have been the most stunning.

  Hal’El Wrestiva was famous for his fervent beliefs in the strict separation of the Castes. His revulsion with Jaresh’s admission into House Shektan was well known. He had even worked to pass a law banning any future such adoption. And it had been Hal’El who had been instrumental in having Rukh declared Unworthy. Again, this was because of Rukh’s new Talents and his relationship with Jessira. It was said that Hal’El even frowned upon men and women of different Castes having mere friendships with one another. He opposed any intermingling between those of different Castes on any level.

  And yet, here he was with a Rahail lover.

  Mira watched in bemused fascination as Varesea uncoiled from the bed and pulled on her clothes. The Rahail woman buttoned up snug britches and slipped on a loose fitting blouse. “We are everything you suspect,” Varesea confirmed once she had finished dressing.